


Why?

by CrazyBeCat



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Sad, TW: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBeCat/pseuds/CrazyBeCat
Summary: "Don't! Don't do this Miranda! You have- you have no idea what I'm feeling!" Andrea shouted, her tears and sobs turning into anger.





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovingxSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovingxSparrow/gifts).



> Got a prompt for kissing in the rain, and it turned into this mess.  
> Oops.  
> Lots of Love,  
> CBC

Miranda sighed as she woke and found the other side of the bed empty. It had become a regular occurrence the past few weeks, and she so desperately wanted to be able to help ease the pain.

She glanced at the clock to see that it read 2:13am. Taking a moment, listening as the rain poured down, she stretched and flicked on the bedside table lamp before she got out of bed. She grabbed her robe, and slipped into it, then slowly made her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Her hunch was right. She could tell immediately because Patricia was lying with her nose pressed against the glass.

"Good girl," Miranda murmured as she knelt down to pet Patricia's head for a moment, preparing herself to step into the down pour. "Stay, Patricia. I'll go get her," She said as she stood up and Patricia rose to her feet as well.

She slid open the patio door and then quickly closed it behind her. She could just make out the shadowy figure of her wife a few feet away. Her wife was shaking, her arms tightly wrapped around her body, as if trying to keep herself from shattering into pieces.

As she moved closer, the rain quickly soaking through her flimsy night robe, she could hear the heavy sobbing. "Andrea." She called out over the rain.

Her wife didn't respond, but also didn't jump when Miranda placed a hand onto her shoulder.

"Darling, let's head back inside." Miranda was already drenched, and she knew the shivering would start soon, as her wife was shaking like a leaf, though part of that could be contributed to the earth wrenching sobs.

When Miranda tried to gently pull Andrea towards the house, her wife stepped away, her arms waving as she choked and cried. "No."

"Andrea, darling. It's freezing. We're both soaking wet. I don't want you to compromise your health. Please, my love, let's go back inside."

Andrea hiccuped and shook her head. "No, Miranda, don't-" she gasped and her body jerked on another sob, "don't want to wake the girls."

"It's pouring rain, and it's two in the morning on a Saturday. The girls will be just fine. You are allowed to be sad, and upset. You do not have to hide your grief. Come inside, and-"

"Don't! Don't do this Miranda! You have- you have no idea what I'm feeling!" Andrea shouted, her tears and sobs turning into anger.

Miranda took a deep breath. "Do not yell at me, and do not antagonize me by saying things you know aren't true. I am not here to fight with you."

"You have no idea what I'm going through! I knew him for thirty years, Miranda! Thirty! He was a brother to me!"

"And I was seventeen! I was seventeen when I walked into the bedroom to find my own mother hanging from the curtain rod! Do not play this game with me, Andrea! Because if you want to start it then I will win! Be angry, and shout and cry, but do not belittle my experiences and pick fights with me! I will say things you don't want to hear." Miranda flicked away the wet plaster of hair that dropped into her eye, and took another deep breath. "Now. It's late, and it's raining. We are going inside." She moved forward with purpose, even in her bare feet on the wet cement of her backyard patio.

Andrea jerked away. "Don't treat me like a child. I can do what I want!"

"Oh?" Miranda scoffed. "How ironic that I hear that from Cassidy and Caroline, who are by definition still children! Andrea. You are pushing my limits of patience. I do not want to fight with you. I am not here to fight with you. I want you to talk to me, and let me help you. But instead you come stand outside in the pouring rain, night after night, and try to pick petty arguments with me!"

"You can't help me! God, everyone wants to help. Everyone's sorry. Yea? Well sorry doesn't it cut it Miranda! Sorry doesn't magically fix anything, Miranda!"

"You say that as if I don't know that from personal experience!"

"Thirty years, Miranda! My best friend, he was like family!"

"And that somehow makes your grief and your pain more painful than mine? You are scrambling in circles of nonsense, Andrea! Trying to play a game of who has suffered more, and that is not going to do anything but make us both angry! It's not a contest, Andrea, about who feels more pain over the ones we have lost!"

Miranda paused, doing her best to reign in her frustration. It had never been this bad. Andrea would argue a little and resist going inside because she didn't want to wake the girls, but usually Miranda was able to gently guide Andrea back into the house. Andrea had never before tried to say that Lukas's death was worse than what Miranda had experienced with her mother.

Miranda hoped that maybe, maybe this would be a turning point in Andrea's grieving process. "Are you trying to push me to my breaking point? Lukas is gone! With all my power and wealth I am no God, Andrea. I cannot bring him back. I know you are grieving, but I will not tolerate emotional abuse. I am here as your love, and your partner. I am here to love and to hold you and help you grieve. I cannot make the pain disappear, but I can help you carry its weight. Don't push me away. If you don't desire my assistance then schedule an appointment with a therapist. But do not keep doing this to yourself."

"Thirty years!" Andrea's body crumpled, and she collapsed to the ground with heavy sobs. She beat her palms against the concrete, screaming and shouting. "You asshole! How dare you leave me! How- dare- You could have called! You could have- could have-" Her voice and shouts became garbled and choked as she heaved and sobbed and then proceeded to wretch into the grass.

Moving to Andrea's side, Miranda knelt down and gathered wet hair, holding it with one hand and running her second hand up and down Andrea's back. "I'm here, Andrea. I'm here."

"Why didn't- you- call! Why- d-id-n't- you…" Her wife wailed, her body jumping and shaking beneath Miranda's palm. She cried and screamed, cursing and pleading. All the while Miranda held her hair and rubbed her back, kneeling in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone and shivering from the cold.

Miranda wasn't sure how much time had passed before Andrea began to relatively calm down. The rain had let up from a downpour to a drizzle, and with it Andrea's weeping slowed. She had sat up, and was leaning heavily against Miranda's side, her hands settled limply against Miranda's thighs.

"Andrea-"

"I'm sorry." Andrea spoke softly, slowly.

Miranda took a moment. "I know, darling." It didn't heal the wound Andrea had poked at, but the apology was sincere, Miranda knew that. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

"I didn't mean it. I know-" Andrea swallowed and Miranda felt it against her shoulder. "Everything hurts, Miranda. I'm sorry I tried to drag you down with me."

Gently shifting, Miranda brought Andrea's head up and gave her a soft kiss. She pressed their foreheads together and ran her fingers through tangled wet hair. "I wish I could take that pain away, my darling. It's a pain that will never leave. It will lessen, and sometimes be invisible, but it will always be there. I'm sorry you have to experience it." She gave Andrea another chaste kiss.

"I just threw up, how can you kiss me?" Andrea asked, her eyes blinking sluggishly, the toll of her breakdown beginning to take hold.

"Because I love you." Miranda chuckled and this time kissed Andrea's forehead. "Besides, the rain washed your face and lips rather clean."

"Hmm." Andrea leaned down and pressed her cheek against Miranda's shoulder. "Miranda. I don't like feeling like this."

"I know. It doesn't feel very nice. I'll schedule you an appointment with Linda?"

Andrea nodded into Miranda's neck. "Ok."

"Come on, darling, don't fall asleep on me yet. Let's get inside and dry off, then you can lie down and get some more sleep." Groaning at the pull of stiff muscles, Miranda carefully stood up and then reached down to help Andrea. "I'm here, Andrea. Let me help you dry off and we can get some more sleep."

When she tried to lead Andrea back towards the house, her wife stayed still. "Miranda?"

Turning, Miranda looked at bloodshot brown eyes. "Yes, darling?"

"Why did he do it?"

Miranda sighed. She knew Andrea understood Miranda didn't have the answer to that question. She gathered her thoughts and replied as best she could. "Whatever his reason, I know how much he loved you. His goal was not to cause you or anyone else pain. His goal was to end the pain that he couldn't see an end to. It wasn't to be cruel."

Andrea's eyes filled with tears as she asked, "Why didn't he ask for help? Or tell me he was feeling so low?"

"I don't know. Maybe he didn't want to burden anyone with the pain he was feeling. He might not have had any idea how to ask. There are endless possibilities. But it wasn’t because he didn’t trust you, or love you. It's likely because he loved you so much that he didn't want to make you worry about him. Lukas was not a man with cruel intentions. It is not your fault, you do not have to feel guilty."

After a moment Andrea began to trudge forward towards the house. "I wish it was that easy to not feel guilty, to not feel like it's somehow my fault. I could have done something, I should have noticed."

"The signs are not always easy to see, Andrea." Miranda twisted her fingers together with Andrea's and squeezed tight. "They aren't highlighted with neon lights and arrows. You live over five hundred miles away. You always were calling and talking and texting. You were there, you didn't abandon him. It's not your fault. And Linda will help you work through all of this. I'll see if she's available later this evening after we've rested."

"Ok."

Miranda slide open the backdoor and gently nudged Andrea inside to be welcomed by a slobbering Patricia. "Ok."

It was not going to be an easy journey. It never was in this kind of situation, and Miranda was going to make sure that Andrea got the help and support she needed to grieve, so she didn't follow in Lukas's footsteps, like Miranda once almost followed in her mother's.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are greatly appreciated.  
> I've been sitting in a rut lately when it comes to writing.  
> But hopefully I'll get some more small ones out, and maybe Inkheart and I can see about working on Pride Cometh Before The Fall.  
> Let me know what you thought.  
> Lots of Love,  
> CBC


End file.
